


Doctors In Places

by sunshinekat



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, mostly pining waverley and oblivious thoreau, sort of a pining fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-09-21 07:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17039402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinekat/pseuds/sunshinekat
Summary: Waverley Ackroyd is a standoffish prick and cultivating and maintaining that persona is essential to his work ethic. No time for friendships in times like these, unless Thoreau Strickland is about to make an idiot of himself again. One must do what one must. [slash]





	1. Chapter 1

a/n Not sure if this is a ship anyone wanted, but I've always had a weakness for rivals. And Ackroyd is just so mean and Thoreau is just a sweety pie. 

 

Doctor Strickland was doing it again. This has to be the fifth time this week he’d taken one of Dr. Reid’s shifts. And of course that arrogant lout never asked if Strickland was alright with it, no he’d just say that some poor desperate citizen needed his personal, special attention and then hand all of his patients and shift to Thoreau and go on his merry way. That impudent, pale bastard.

Waverley Ackroyd was of course, in no way a fan of Dr. Strickland, but this did not mean he held Dr. Reid in any higher regard. His presence in the hospital was unwanted and unneeded, and frankly his casual relationship with Dr. Swansea only encouraged this behavior.

He’d tried to pull that move on Waverley, of course it hadn’t worked. Inevitably however he got someone to work the shift for him.

But tonight had been difficult, they’d lost a patient, Miss Harriet Jones had been murdered and dragged out of the hospital. Her body had yet to be recovered. Waverley watched Reid talk to Strickland in a low voice, and then hand him his chart. Strickland smiles at him in that ridiculous way he does, and Reid leaves.

There is something so lonely about it, seeing Strickland standing in the middle of the hospital hallway, blood still being mopped off the floor watching Reid rush away.

He sees Strickland head to one of the nurses and hand them his chart, more low voices and oh it’s Pippa, she’s furious, but she nods and stomps in Waverley’s direction. She shoots him a glare, “Ah, a doctor, one would think we didn’t have those here!” she says snidely and brushes past him.

Strickland catches his eye just then and disappears upstairs. And it’s not like Waverley particularly cares about what happened, what matters is the patients. He had his doubts about Strickland, but he thought that this was the one thing they shared.

He made to follow him before thinking better of it, and when he started he was too proud to stop and pretend he didn’t want to. So he went up the stairwell and followed the sound of footsteps to their shared office. He saw Strickland leaning against his desk and lighting a cigarette.

“Finally taking a break I see?” Waverley says stepping into the room, he sees the tension spread through Strickland’s shoulders, wide as they were, his soft lips pursed around the butt of the cigarette, his dark hair combed evenly against his head, his glasses framing his eyes giving him an air of sophistication. Thoreau could look particularly eye-catching when the mood hit him, Waverley supposed.

“Ah, well Dr. Reid isn’t going to be in tonight. I’ll have to look in on his patients.” he smiles sardonically over his cigarette and adjusts his glasses.

“I see, well that’s not very surprising. He’s never here. But then again, it’s not surprising that he’s putting all his work on you either.” Waverley says, he goes to his desk, which was across from Strickland’s.

He can sense Thoreau looking at him, he meets his gaze head on, daring him to say anything against it.

Thoreau shrugs, he inhales gently and exhales smoke from his lips, tilting his head back to keep the cloud from hitting Waverley. It’s annoying, but not unexpected, and if he were honest about it, he poked and prodded because...because he wasn’t doctor Jonathan Reid. He was here, he wasn’t out in the night braving whatever dangers that may be taking place. And it was plain for him to see that Strickland thought that Reid was some sort of hero.

Something about his admiration made Waverley sick to his stomach.

“You continue to let him step all over you it’s going to start affecting your work.”

Dr. Strickland shook the ash from his cigarette and it fell on his coat, he sighed softly, “Dr. Reid has urgent affairs outside of Pembroke hospital, I am happy to care for his patients during his absence.” and started to rub at the ash, only making it worse. The stain was stark and ugly against the white of his coat.

And then suddenly it was red, like the blood on the lobby floor, like that horrifying scream that echoed through the hallway in front of Harriet Jones’ room.

It was Waverley running into the hall wondering where the hell everyone was, wondering where Thoreau Strickland was. Because he didn’t know what he’d do if he found him in there too, another corpse to add to the mess in that hospital room.

Another missing person to add to their ever-growing list.

He looks at Strickland, the line of his jaw, the uneven tilt of his glasses as he tired to rub the ash off his coat, a stray ebony curl touching his forehead gently. Waverley tells himself it’s fine, he’s fine, it’s all just fine and good and alright.

“I can take two more patients tonight, I am waiting on some blood work, no doubt it will take time and I might as well make myself useful.”

Dr. Strickland glances at him, “I...yes, thank you, Waverley. I appreciate it. I honestly was wondering how I would get thro-”

“Yes, yes, very well, you’re welcome I suppose. At least one doctor here had to be the adult.” Waverley interrupts, he sees the familiar look of irritation cross Strickland’s face and all is well in the world.  
“I shall go relieve poor Pippa of the impossible task you have set upon her, no doubt she will be grateful too.”

He walks out of the room with a pep in his step. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoreau has a lot of opinions about his fellow doctor.

The night had been going slow ever since Thoreau arrived for his shift. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or worried about it. Such things no doubt would be considered a bad omen, especially during a time when one could not walk through the streets at night without the risk of going missing.

He sees his fellow staff members doing busy work, catching up with tasks left by the wayside during some urgent event. He had little work to do himself, he’d checked in on all his patients, his experiments had been put on hold until Dr. Reid was back from whatever situation he was handling in the White Chapel district. He was quiet the man, that Dr. Reid, so dedicated and intelligent, and such a gentleman. Thoreau could only hope he would make that same impression on some young doctor one day. He was no doubt going to strive for that as a goal.

If only others would want to put that much effort into effect. He was heading toward Mortimer’s room, knowing that the young man could use a chat once in a while with someone who was not his mother.

That was when he passed by one of the storage rooms and heard a sound, he crept inside looking over one of the stacked chairs and saw a head. A a stab of horror pierced the pit of his stomach, his hands shook as he gripped his clip board ready for whatever scuffle might result from this encounter.

Surprisingly enough, it was Dr. Ackroyd. Unpleasant doctor Ackroyd. He was sitting in a single chair, arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted forward in slumber.

Waverley Ackroyd was a very cantankerous man. One could not have normal conversations with him, he was short with the staff, downright rude to his fellow doctors and discourteous with his patients. He was an excellent doctor however, and his treatments were successful. But his personality did leave a lot to be desired.

Why a man of such a nature would choose to spend a moment of respite sleeping on a chair in the dark? Knowing Waverley, it was to leave a bed, or chair free for someone else who needed it. And to that, Thoreau wasn’t sure what to think. He did what he thought would be nice, and what would no doubt upset Waverley when he woke up. He went to the linen closet across the room and covered Dr. Ackroyd gently, smiling to himself knowing that when he woke up he would be quite annoyed.

But as he withdrew his hold from the blanket and caught the image of Waverley’s face in the dark, circles of unrest under his eyes, the soft part of his lips as he breathed slowly. He held back the urge to touch his face, he looked almost kind in this low light. No trace of that argumentative, unpleasant man could be found.

Thoreau steps back carefully, stomach reeling from the rush of emotion he felt at this revelation. Ever since they met, he had only wanted to find a friend in these trying times. And yet in Dr. Ackroyd he found an exhausted, overworked, sullen man. He had no right to instill this kind of curiosity, or this incessant need for approval. It was very different from his admiration for Dr. Reid. Thoreau knew he would never measure up to the good doctor, but he sought to learn from him to get as close as he could. Dr. Reid’s kindness, and his confidence in Thoreau’s ability fanned the flames of his idolatry.

With that said, Waverley continued to express dislike and disapproval toward both Dr. Reid and himself. It raised questions in Thoreau about why, or what could he do to change that. They had to work closely together and this relationship could not flourish if one of them was so insistent on being a human shaped cactus.

Damn it all, they both knew he could be unbearable at times but he had shown kindness on more than one occasion, he had displayed his ability to care for the pain of others as well during their time together, but for some reason this affection could not be duplicated or directed to any man or woman that he worked with.

Even now, this moment in the dark of a storage room with one of them unconscious was the closest they’d come to getting along since they met.

As Thoreau left the storage room, feeling quite upset with himself, he never heard the soft whisper of his name leave Waverly Ackroyd’s slumbering lips.


	3. Chapter 3

a/n ty for the kudos! 

 

Days off are rare. But Dr. Reid offers to care for Thoreau’s patients and give him the day. At first he is hesitant but takes it and heads up to the offices to get his things to head back to his home in the West End. 

He stops himself when he sees he has some paperwork to update. So most of his morning is spent handling prescriptions and updating patient information and diagnoses. 

Then he hears an argument coming from outside. 

“- And in return I have given him the day. I am not ignorant of the favours I take from him.” 

“You call them favours Dr. Reid, but what they are is an abuse of your position.” 

“There is no abuse here, Dr. Ackroyd, only your ignorance on the matter. And what business of yours is it if thoreau and I share a close friendship that I can depend on him for such matters? Who else might I ask favours of? surely not yourself.” 

There was a low, tense silence. Strickland was humiliated at thinking Dr. Ackroyd was confronting Dr. Reid about this, he really didn't mind. He decided to intervene.

Jonathan glanced at him and Ackroyd turned posture tense and angry. But the surprise on his face was unexpected, “Dr. Strickland.” he says. 

Dr. Reid smiles, and Thoreau answers in kind, he turns his gaze back to Dr. Ackroyd as he approaches the arguing pair. “I’m so sorry, I thought I overheard an argument. Is everything alright?” 

Waverley looks irritated, but also embarrassed? Was he ashamed for scolding Dr. Reid on his behalf? Dr. Reid puts a hand on Thoreau’s shoulder, “No need to worry my friend, Dr. Ackroyd was simply advising me of his concerns about you. Isn’t that right?” 

Waverley’s glower was severe, but he nodded, it must have been difficult for him to admit such a thing. Since he disliked the both of them so intensely. “Yes, I’m afraid Dr. Reid has been taking liberties that are not his to take. As a doctor in this hospital handing off one’s duties is not something that is done.” 

Thoreau frowns, “Ah, but I don’t mind. Dr. Reid has many affairs that require him to make home visits.” 

Dr. Reid retracted his hand from Thoreau’s shoulders, “But, I understand completely. Dr. Ackroyd may be right,” Something in his tone drew Thoreau’s attention away from Waverly, and he found himself gazing into Dr. Reid’s tantalizing blue gaze. “Is my friendship such a burden to you Thoreau?” he asks, and his voice penetrates the very cells in Thoreau’s body, it’s both terrifying and exciting. His heart pounds so hard in his chest, he has to hold onto Dr. Reid before falling away. “Oh, not at all.” he says, without thinking, surely those were not his words? 

He turns to Waverly who is watching both of them with undisguised disgust, “I see.” he says, tone low and angry. 

Dr. Reid smiles placidly at him, one of his hands coming to hold the back of Thoreau’s neck, “See Dr. Ackroyd?” He smiles and Thoreau is pulled closer to Dr. Reid’s body, he is cold, and hard. But much in the way like a Greek statue. And Thoreau is drawn to him just as he would be to one of those masterful works of art. 

He doesn’t hear Waverley leave, or what he says before he leaves. He only remembers Dr. Reid walking him back to his desk and telling him to enjoy his day off.


	4. Chapter 4

A/n thanks for the comments and kudos everyone! 

Pembroke Hospital cares for its patients and provides adequate accommodations for its staff. In times like these, with the sick and mad in the streets, spending the night in the hospital was more of a safety measure, than it was an actual desire. 

Thoreau Strickland spends most of his nights in the hospital, not for that reason. He spent a lot of his free time working with his experiments, hidden away in his new laboratory. Courtesy of Edgar Swansea who offered the spare surgery room on the third floor. It was a clean, secure space, far away from the dark despair of the world below. 

It had a small, cramped balcony on the far end facing the docks, at this time of night they were coated in a thick fog. 

His current studies were undergoing review by a fellow scientist in Whitechapel so he was short on work for the evening. He was standing out on the balcony when he heard some commotion below. It sounded like Milton was shouting at someone. 

It only took him a moment to figure out who it was. 

“Good God, Waverly let the man smoke in peace…” Thoreau mutters, but he sees Milton shove Waverly who pushes back setting off Milton who reacts with a brutal fist to the jaw. Shocked, and concerned when he sees Waverly launch himself at the man Thoreau backs away from the balcony rushing out of the room and toward the elevator. He jams his finger on the button for the first floor but the damned thing is painfully slow. When he finally get out he sees Pippa rushing down the hall toward the back exit where the ambulance exit was. He follows her and turns the corner into the cold back lot just in time to see her pulling Milton off of a thrashing Waverly. 

It was difficult to gauge the damage on either man, Pippa was trying her best to hold Milton Hooks back, his face bruised and dirty, the fire in his eyes still blazing hot. A brief look at Waverly showed a very different man than Thoreau knew, perhaps the soldier he’d been all those years before? More concerning was the fact that he looked ready to go again. 

Milton shifts aggressively and Pippa holds him back, her shoes scraping on the wet ground, “Milton stop!” Pippa cries, “They’ll throw you both out!” 

Waverly staggers to his feet and stumbles forward, Thoreau catches him before he falls. Guiding him slowly to the floor, his face badly bruised, mouth bloody and open as he drew in shaking, angry breaths. 

“Doctor Ackroyd what are you doing?” he asks, concerned only slightly. He wasn't surprised at all since this wasn't the first time it had happened. But it was certainly the messiest, it made him nervous, to see the familiar deep red of blood staining his coat. 

“That damn bastard” Waverly snarls glaring at Milton over Thoreau’s shoulder, Thoreau shifted and grasped Waverly’s chin gentle turning his face to examine his injury, “Might I ask why you were fighting with the ambulance driver of all people?” 

Waverly’s eyes glance at Thoreau, not the usual stern glare he’s used to, it was genuine surprise at seeing him there. Thoreau found it charming to see him so confounded for once. “We had a disagreement- ow.” Waverly winces as Thoreau gently dabs an alcohol soaked handkerchief against the cut on his cheek. 

For a few moments Thoreau is stunned that Waverly is letting him help - he’d expected more of a fight, Waverly Ackroyd was very proud. Sure enough Waverly swipes at his hand, “Get off me Strickland, I’m a bloody doctor I can tend my own injuries!” he staggers to his feet and pushes Thoreau’s second attempt to help him up and begins the slow, overly cautious trip back into the hospital. 

“Dr. Ackroyd wait, I can help you-” Thoreau calls out. 

“Don’t bother Strickland, I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.” 

Watching him walk Thoreau could tell he had a sprained ankle he shouldn’t be walking on, and the way he was clutching his wrist he no doubt sprained that too after landing on it. He thought about the fight, the flash of Waverly’s movements and Milton Hooks looking like murder, bloody fists indeed. 

Thoreau followed Waverly and caught him at the door as he was swaying and draped Waverly’s arm over his shoulder and gripped his waist gently, guiding him forcefully. Waverly groaned in pain, “Strickland, you bastard.” 

Thoreau chuckled, “You’re welcome, Waverly.”


End file.
